When trouble finds Barb Collins, Dirk Knight finds trouble.
A newly-minted Private Eye who throws himself into the job.
A newly-minted chef who knows good food.
Trouble drives them together in a case like no other.
Dirk’s solution promises them both sweet things to come.
An excerpt from Dirk Knight: The Case of the Rustled Ranch:
The door opened, and she walked in.
Dirk tried not to stare, but it wasn’t easy. She was a knockout. Five-ten, maybe six feet tall. Mid-twenties. Short mahogany hair curled across her brow and over her ears, flashing a few auburn highlights in the glow coming through the door. A pleasantly padded figure that made him forget all about the bruise on his knee. She’d been poured into a pair of yoga pants that clung to her curves like chocolate on a truffle. A forest green blouse with wide, lacy cuffs and a neckline lower than a politician’s morals completed the outfit.
“Are you Mr. Knight?” she asked in a voice that dripped honey and promise.